The hallway seemed to tilt beneath me. Eli was only four. He was curled beneath my coat, his cheeks marked with dried tears, one tiny hand wrapped around a juice box someone had given him.
“Where is my mother?” I asked.
The nurse looked away. I called my mother with shaking fingers. She answered on the third ring, laughing at something in the background.
“Mom,” I said, my voice rough. “Where are you?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re awake?”
“Where are you?”
There was a pause. Then she answered carelessly, like it meant nothing.
“At Melissa’s. Your sister needed us more.”
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